Jynn held up his gun-metal grey and green buy'ce, angling the internal components toward his young son. "Making adjustments to my sensor upgrades, ad'ika. Sit with me. I'd like to talk to you."

Zelu climbed up onto the workbench's secondary stool. He loved joining his father in the workshop, assissting with armor and weaponsmithing as best as he could at his young age. "Does it have to do with my lessons? I swear I'll pay attention next time. Mama says I do real good when I focus, Buir."

Jynn couldn't help smile at his son's eagerness to please his parents. He shook his head, smiling, "No, Zelu. Et'ika says you're doing fine. You're old enough to understand it's not always a game anymore. It's dangerous out there. When you come with me to apprentice, we need to be sure that you can hide from the jettise. Force sensitives are very valuable to them. They won't think twice about taking you away."

Zelu looked his father in the eyes, with a fierce determination born of a proud Mandalorian heritage, "I won't let them, Buir. Mama's been training me to use the lightsaber too. I'll be able to use great-great-great gran's soon, I hope. I can be like great-great granpa Kad." He seemed really happy at such an accomplishment.

Jynn smiled again. "No son of mine will be jettise, ad'ika." He joked as he winked at Zelu.

Zelu lifted his chin with a proud look, "No, Papa. I'm Mando'ad. All the way."

Zelu walked out of his father's shop later that afternoon feeling a strange mixture of pride and anxiety. He wanted nothing more than to please both Mama and Papa. He was well aware that they were fiercely proud of him. Papa always said he was absolutely mandokarla. For Zelu, being born Mando'ad was the best sort of thing to be in this galaxy. He was also fiercely proud of another sort of heritage, the kind that no one else who was Mandalorian, besides he and Mama, as far as he knew, could lay claim to. They had a special sort of connection with the force, one inherited, if Mama's stories had even a shred of truth which he knew with all his heart they did, from his mother's namesake, his great-great-great grandmother Etain, and her son Kad. He was also proud that he and Mama shared another secret legacy, the fact that they were the actual genetic descendants of the legendary Mandalores Jango and Boba Fett. He knew that these things didn't necessarily make him better than the other Mandalorian kids, but that he had every right to take pride in such a heritage. He was excited that soon he'd be going offworld with Papa to learn the 'family trade,' of hunting down bad guys and collecting their bounties. He knew a lot of Mando'ade took up that sort of work, that it was as much of their culture as fighting in wars and wearing beskar'gam and farming and family and breathing. He felt his father was a special kind of Mando, in that he brought justice to the galaxy by taking down those bad guys who really hurt people. He knew that was what he wanted to do with his life.

What troubled him, however, was the fear he felt of having to hide who he really was. Mama had taught him since birth to be proud of his combined heritage, even if two parts of that heritage were supposed to be kept secret. He didn't like having to feel afraid of people finding out and hurting him, or his family. That fear though was what drove him to be the best. He knew things were dangerous, especially for him. He was determined not to ever let anyone take advantage of his fear. Like Mama had always told him, he needed to be able to take care of himself. Mama and Papa weren't always going to be around. Having recognized his fear, he decided to use it as Papa had told him, to turn it into something he could use to drive himself to be better. With that thought, he smiled as he walked to the back of the house for his scheduled lightsaber practice with Mama.

Re: New FanFic: The Rise of Mandalore the Redeemer...

I realized a major faux pas on my part, having forgotten that due to the events of Invincible, the planet Mandalore is off limits to anyone w/ the Fett genome, even any future descendants...

so i made the edit.

i do intend to continue, once things slow down a bit.

Where were we? Oh yeah...

CLAN MEETING, THE HOMESTEAD TAPCAF, PLANET CONCORD DAWN C.108 A.B.Y.

"What makes you think getting involved with Emperor Fel's Empire will really benefit us Korte? Huh? You think they're going to just leave us all alone out here in our own little space? I don't think so, vod." Jynn Veyrd shook his head disgustedly. The other Mando'ade around the table just looked at Jynn's opposition. Korte Zev was as young as Jynn, but he was, by comparison a hulking brute of a man in dark red and blue beskar'gam, His eyes flashed angrily at Jynn, then he spoke.

"What right do you have to question how we do things, Jynn? You can't even set foot on Mandalore because of your wife and child. The Fett clan's time to rule as Mand'alor has long come and gone. Someone else needs to take charge. Someone else should take the name." Korte looked around the table, barely able to hide the smug expression on his face. There were a few shocked stares at his revelation of the genetic inheritance of his wife and son. A few, didn't seem to care, or just didn't show there feelings on the matter.

Jynn looked at his son, Zelu, who was seated at a nearby table, studying the inner workings of Jynn's buy'ce. He leaned in closely, and spoke quietly, yet the venom in his voice made everyone of the clan cheifs at the table take notice. "You leave my wife and son out of this, Korte Zev. I don't know how you found out they were descendants of Fett..."

"Enough," interrupted the eldest clan cheif at the table, a man in steel grey beskar'gam, named Azhru. His steely grey eyes, glared at both men, softening almost imperceptibly at Jynn. "I agree with Alor Veyrd. It would do us no good to be involved with Fel or his Imperial Knights. Our autonomy is of vital importance to us right now. Times are...troubled...to say the least. Furthermore, I believe that Korte is correct, in that we must select a Mand'alor. We have been too many years without one. I for one, however, would prefer the title go to a descendant of the Fett clan." Azhru held up his hand to stop the complaints of Korte Zev and a couple of his supporters. "It is not only my decision, however. Perhaps by the time all of the Cheiftains can gather and come to a decision on this matter, little Zelu will be ready for the task."

Some of the men laughed, and glanced over at six-year old Zelu, who seemed to be lost in the world of Jynn's helmet. With that the meeting adjourned, and Jynn and Zelu returned home.